Writing in quiet
This is me now
not as before,   
I am different now
I believe
this is of no
any more


Life is short
it runs through the night
through winter, summer, spring and fall
it runs through us all
and then suddenly
No more

Dry tubers

I hope they burn in Hell
all the suffering
they inflicted on me and everyone else.
I Hate them
I hope they suffer now
thats it
The mercury that might be my memory
Of what they did to me 
Has slipped through my fingers
Only small parts remain
under the snow

I am here

I am here now
Here on the other side
of the Atlantic

Listening to your voices

Every night

Every day

You come to me

With your prayers

and memories of lost temples, tribes, wars and peace

I remember from my many lives all that again and agin
Oh why you here


When I write 
Nagging, nagging
NAGGING the mind
Again again and agin
aging thoughts without grace
I live here and the there



I am empty
You are empty
and we are all

Empty vessels carrying 
something from one
point to the other
MIght it be 
Malaria, Cancer, Aids or other things
that we hide inside our bodies
Inside our minds 
This is of some importance 
to some people
But in the short perspective
of little matter
And we are here talking
about something like
50 million years

Long Version

I wait and
I waited 
This is our world
we live in it
day by day

Hate were installed 
in me and I kept it
inside growing 
but still inside

Everyday the memories
Came back to do their due
Every night the memories
evaporated into thin air
until I woke up at 3.30 
in the morning
Crystal clear every word
every moment

God will never forgive me
for what happened then
but I do not mind
God is indifferent  to man
and his suffering 
Unpresent present